Fan Changyu was probably the first bride who, on the very morning of her own wedding day, still had to get up early to slaughter a pig and prepare marinated dishes.

The pig she had slaughtered and sold before left behind some offal and pig’s head meat, which she also made into marinated food. Counting the two pigs together, the marinated meat finally filled two basins.

The aunts who came to help all commented on how fragrant it smelled.

By the time noon was nearing, Aunt Zhao urged her back to her room to change into her wedding dress and do her hair.

It was only after asking Aunt Zhao that she learned there were two kinds of customs for a matrilocal marriage. One kind was where the groom sat in a flower palanquin and was carried to the bride’s home, commonly called “carrying the groom.”

The other was not much different from a normal marriage: the groom would stay at the bride’s house the day before, while the bride would set out from her maternal family’s home, riding the flower palanquin all the way back to her own house, which counted as giving face to the groom.

Fan Changyu did not follow either. First, she no longer had the money to rent a flower palanquin; second, the groom lived right next door—he only had to come downstairs to perform the ceremony. There was no need for such trouble.

The “Madam of Complete Fortune¹Madam of Complete Fortune (全福太太) — is a traditional elderly woman invited to preside over weddings in Chinese folk customs. The title literally means “woman of complete blessings” and refers to someone whose life is considered auspicious—typically widowed late, with living husband, sons, and grandchildren—all viewed as signs of good fortune. Her role is to bring blessings and recite auspicious sayings during the ceremony.” who was invited came to make the wedding bed and then helped her comb her hair.

“One comb till the end,

Two combs to grow old together,

Three combs for children and grandchildren filling the hall…”

Fan Changyu sat before the dressing table, listening to Madam of Complete Fortune reciting the Ten Combs Poem and to the clamor outside. For a moment, she felt an unreal illusion—that she truly was about to be married.

Outside, the guests discussed the groom most of all. Unfortunately, Aunt Zhao was tight-lipped. No matter how the women probed, she would not reveal a single word.

Some women sat together cracking melon seeds and could not help speculating in low voices: “The Zhao couple is keeping this so secret—could it be that the groom is ugly as a gourd, too hideous to meet people?”

“I heard the groom hurt his leg and can’t walk properly!”

Someone immediately drew in a breath. “Then isn’t he a cripple?”

The woman beside her nudged her elbow, signaling her to lower her voice, and then whispered, “After all, the Fan family is taking a son-in-law. If he were a perfectly fine man, would he agree to marry into her family?”

Everyone sighed at that. Someone else brought up Song Yan: “Looks like the Fan family and the Song family truly fell out. Everyone in the alley came today, except the Song family.”

“Ah, I’d say it’s better if the Song family doesn’t come to drink the wedding wine. Song Yan is famous in ten villages for being handsome. If he showed up, he’d make the groom look worthless. That wouldn’t do the Fan family’s face any good!”

The crowd chattered noisily until the auspicious hour arrived. Then they all gathered before the Zhao family’s gate, waiting to see the groom.

Ironically, when Fan Changyu, the bride, came out with the red bridal veil over her head, no one paid her any mind.

The weather was truly uncooperative today. Snow had begun to fall since the afternoon, and by now, a thin layer had already covered the courtyard walls. The ground, trodden by many feet, had yet to accumulate snow—only damp traces remained.

The string of firecrackers hung at the Zhao family gate exploded with a crackling pa-pa-pa, and as the crowd craned their necks to look inside, they saw a pair of crutches extend from the opened door. At once, they sighed inwardly—so it was true.

Fan Changyu’s bridegroom was indeed a cripple.

With the movement of the crutches, the groom stepped out with one foot. Half of a reddish-brown robe appeared in the crowd’s sight.

The falling snow, like scattered down feathers, landed upon that robe and melted instantly, leaving only faint, barely visible traces of moisture.

The noisy crowd outside the door inexplicably held its breath.

When the groom’s other foot crossed the threshold, he finally emerged completely from the shadows within the room. Snowflakes settled in his black hair tied back with a red ribbon. Between the black hair and red robes was a face—handsome and refined, his complexion even fairer than the falling snow. The faint glance he cast toward the doorway was cold and distant.

The guests who saw his face all gasped in astonishment.

In all their years of living, it was their first time seeing a young man so strikingly handsome. Not to mention Song Yan—even the lead actor of a renowned opera troupe could not compare to this groom’s looks.

Sword-browed and star-eyed, his face like polished jade—truly a man carved by heaven.

After a moment of dead silence, voices rose again—this time even louder and livelier than before.

“This groom is truly handsome!”

“I knew it—Changyu’s such a fine-looking girl, how could the man she married be any worse?”

“Who was it earlier who said the groom was a crippled ugly gourd? Does this look worse than Song Yan’s?”

Xie Zheng, leaning on his crutches, passed through the noisy crowd expressionlessly. His brows furrowed slightly, barely visible—he seemed to find the chatter of these gossiping women a bit too noisy.

Turning into the Fan family’s gate, he was immediately spotted by the people still cracking melon seeds and chatting in the courtyard. They stood up to watch the spectacle, and amid the rising noise, most of the talk was now praise for his looks.

Even a few women who had been helping in the kitchen preparing the dishes couldn’t resist coming out to take a peek after hearing that the groom was exceedingly handsome.

Suppressing the faint impatience between his brows, Xie Zheng endured the onlookers all the way to the main hall to perform the wedding rites.

As he glanced casually toward the eaves ahead, he caught sight of Fan Changyu—wearing a wedding robe of the same color as his own, and, while no one was paying attention, lifting a corner of her red bridal veil from behind the crowd to sneak a peek outside. His gaze had already moved past her, yet suddenly turned back again, a bit surprised.

He knew she wasn’t bad-looking, but this was the first time he had seen her wearing makeup.

Beneath the half-lifted red silk, her apricot eyes gazed in his direction, brimming with a misty smile. A faint rouge brushed her cheeks—though the hand that applied it was rather clumsy, it couldn’t hide her natural charm. Her lips, tinted with lip color unlike her usual paleness, made her fair cheeks seem as bright as snow. At a glance, she was strikingly, almost dazzlingly, beautiful.

Their eyes met. She froze for a moment, then seemed to realize this was her own wedding ceremony—like a thief caught in the act, she hurriedly lowered the veil and stood properly once more.

Clearly a beauty in the making, yet her manner… was always a touch peculiar.

The irritation that had been building in Xie Zheng’s heart from all the noisy guests suddenly eased a little.

Perhaps this wedding wasn’t entirely dull or tedious after all.

He hobbled into the main hall, and Madam of Complete Fortune handed one end of the red silk ribbon with a flower ball tied in the middle to him, and the other end to Fan Changyu.

The elder presiding over the ceremony sang aloud,

“The auspicious hour has arrived—bow to Heaven and Earth!”

“First bow—to Heaven and Earth—”

Fan Changyu, her vision blocked by the bridal veil, was guided by Aunt Zhao to stand facing outside. Only then did she bow together with Xie Zheng toward Heaven and Earth.

“Second bow—to the parents—”

Both of them were orphans, so only memorial tablets were placed on the high seat. They bowed again toward the tablets.

“Third bow—husband and wife bow to each other—”

As Fan Changyu lowered her head for this bow, a gust of wind blew in, nearly lifting her red veil. She instinctively reached up to grab it—but a large hand was faster, pressing the veil gently back down over her head.

She could imagine, even without seeing, that the scene must have looked quite ridiculous.

Laughter rippled among the guests.

“Look at that groom—he can’t bear to let anyone see the bride!”

The bridal veil blocked Fan Changyu’s view, so she couldn’t see what expression Xie Zheng wore at that moment. But she herself felt rather embarrassed hearing those teasing remarks, only hoping he didn’t take them to heart.

“Ceremony complete—send them into the bridal chamber!”

With that loud call, she and Xie Zheng, holding opposite ends of the red silk, were finally led into the bridal chamber that had been prepared early that morning.

Though called a bridal chamber, it was actually quite simple—just red paper cutouts of the double happiness character pasted on the doors and windows, and festive-colored sheets and quilts spread across the bed.

After Madam of Complete Fortune finished a long string of auspicious phrases, she finally let Xie Zheng lift the red bridal veil from Fan Changyu’s head.

The world before her eyes suddenly brightened, and the people in the room came into focus. Earlier outside, when she’d been caught peeking from under her veil, she had hurriedly dropped it back down and hadn’t seen him clearly.

Now, standing just a single step away from her, Xie Zheng in his red wedding robe made Fan Changyu think once again—people truly depended on clothes to make the person.

If he walked down the main street dressed like this today, he’d probably leave a good number of young ladies dizzy.

Madam of Complete Fortune laughed cheerfully. “Look at them! What a handsome bride and groom—truly a match made in Heaven!”

The women around them all covered their mouths and giggled.

Fan Changyu smiled awkwardly, forcing her lips to curve slightly in response.

Xie Zheng’s expression remained calm and faint, impossible to read—no one could tell what he was thinking.

Madam of Complete Fortune, together with the other women in the room, picked peanuts and red dates from a plate and sprinkled them over the couple’s heads as she chanted, “Dates and peanuts—soon to bear noble sons!”

Those things hurt a little when they hit. Fan Changyu spoke up at just the right time, “Thank you, aunties, but my husband has an injury. Throwing nuts is only for good luck—let’s stop here for today.”

As soon as she said that, someone teased, “Look at her! Changyu’s already protecting her husband!”

Fan Changyu, thick-skinned, let them joke as they pleased. Only after sending the whole group out did she turn to Xie Zheng. “You weren’t hurt, were you?”

Xie Zheng’s eyes, dark and unreadable, rested on her. “No.”

Fan Changyu let out a breath of relief. “I still need to go out and greet the guests. You stay here and rest. If you get hungry, eat some of the pastries on the table first.”

Those were words that ought to come from the groom’s mouth to the bride, yet hearing them from her lips—it did sound rather strange.

Xie Zheng was silent for a moment, then gave a slight nod.

Dragging his injured body and holding himself upright for so long, a clear weariness had begun to surface in his expression.

· ─ ·✶· ─ ·

Fan Changyu went outside to entertain the guests. Since she had no elders left in her family, and this was a matrilocal marriage, no one at the banquet pressed her to drink. Everyone simply enjoyed a lively meal together, and as evening approached, they began to take their leave one after another.

After the banquet dispersed, Fan Changyu was tidying up the tables and benches when she noticed a brocade box sitting on the table by the door—she had no idea who had left it there.

She asked Aunt Zhao, who was helping clean up, “Auntie, which family sent this gift?”

Aunt Zhao looked puzzled as well. “The gift register was finished before the feast began, and I didn’t see this box earlier. Maybe someone came late to deliver it—but they didn’t even say a word.”

Fan Changyu opened the box—and the moment she saw what was inside, her expression turned cold.

It was a pair of clay figurines—a boy and a girl.

She immediately flung the box backward into the pile of swept-up trash. The clay dolls hit the ground and broke apart on the spot.

When Aunt Zhao saw her reaction, then recognized the smashed pair of clay dolls, her face changed instantly. She spat fiercely in the direction of the Song household. “That heartless beast! When you were in trouble, he cut ties faster than anyone else, and now, on your wedding day, he sends such a thing just to spite you?”

Fan Changyu said calmly, “Don’t be angry, Auntie. There’s no point getting upset over someone who doesn’t matter.”

Her anger hadn’t been stirred by any lingering memories—it was simply disgust.

That pair of clay dolls had been something she gave to Song Yan herself, back when his father passed away. She was only seven or eight at the time and had seen how downcast he was, so she made the dolls to cheer him up.

Over the years, Fan Changyu could say with a clear conscience that her parents had never treated Song Yan unfairly. Yet after her parents’ deaths, the first person to rush over and break off the engagement was him. When she was later harassed by Fan Da and the gamblers he brought, he shut his doors and refused to see her.

And now, on her wedding day, he sent her a pair of those same clay dolls—what was he trying to say?

Because of that unpleasant incident, Fan Changyu’s expression remained dull all the way until dinnertime.

Xie Zheng, still unable to move much due to his injuries, had his meal brought to him by her.

“You’re hurt,” she said, setting the tray down. “I picked some light dishes for you.”

Xie Zheng noticed her change in mood the moment she entered the room, but he did not ask anything. He only lowered his gaze slightly and replied with a faint, courteous “thank you.”

By the time everything was tidied up, it was nearly the hour of the Pig (9:00 p.m. – 11:00 p.m.). Aunt Zhao, carrying the sleeping Changning, offered to take the child next door, but Fan Changyu quickly stopped her.

“Since Father and Mother passed away, Ning-niang has always slept with me. If not, she gets frightened in her sleep and cries.”

Aunt Zhao said, “That’s fine on ordinary days, but not on your wedding night. No matter what, husband and wife must sleep in the same room—otherwise, it’s bad luck.”

Without leaving Fan Changyu room to object, Aunt Zhao carried Changning out of the house.

The courtyard that had been bustling during the day was now quiet and still.

A red festive lantern hung high under the eaves, its warm glow spilling softly into the snowy night.

Fan Changyu sat on the step by the doorway, hugging her knees, gazing blankly at the great flakes of snow drifting through the dark. After a while, she finally rose and went inside.

Since this was only a marriage in name, of course she didn’t actually plan to share a room with him.

However, all the quilts in the house had been moved to the bridal chamber—which had originally been her own room. After her parents passed away, Changning had been too frightened to sleep alone, so she had shared the bed with her sister. Now that it was converted into a wedding room, the other room next door hadn’t yet been prepared.

Out of long habit, she pushed the door open directly—only to freeze in place the moment she entered.

Xie Zheng was changing his clothes. His outer robe had been taken off, and he stood with his back to her, his inner garment half-removed—half draped over one arm, half hanging loosely around his waist.

It was a strikingly beautiful body. Through the gauze wrappings, the skin that showed beneath the candlelight glowed a warm bronze-gold; the firm lines of muscle stood out clearly beneath it.

Because of her sudden intrusion, he turned his head slightly. The cold expression on his sculpted, jade-like face, in that moment, held an austere allure—detached yet strangely captivating.

Fan Changyu stood there dumbly for several breaths, until he frowned, long brows tightening, and gathered his half-removed garment back over his shoulder.

“Something you need?” he asked.

She came to her senses all at once—realizing she must look exactly like some lecherous scoundrel ogling a good man. Her face flamed red as she spun around.

“Apologies—I forgot to knock. I just came in to get some bedding.”

“Take what you need,” came the cool, clear voice from behind her.

Keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead, Fan Changyu went to the cabinet, pulled out two quilts, and hugged them to her chest. Without daring to glance back even once, she slipped out the door. Only after turning the corner of the wall did she finally exhale, taking several deep breaths in relief.

Truly shameful—utterly shameful! Heaven forbid he misunderstand her any further!

Xie Zheng’s hearing was sharp; he naturally caught the sound of her released breath.

No emotion stirred in his eyes. Only after her footsteps had faded into the distance did he undo his bandages and resume tending to the deeper wounds.

The medicine had been delivered tied to the leg of the eastern gyrfalcon—a golden wound salve worth more than its weight in gold, its potency fierce.

The instant the powder touched his wounds, pain shot through his body, every muscle tightening. Blue veins stood out on his arms, sweat beaded along his temples, and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth from how tightly his teeth were clenched.

To keep from staining the bed with blood, he sat on a wooden stool, fists clenched and resting on his knees. Straight-backed, he endured in silence as sweat mixed with blood trickled slowly down his spine—it looked less like healing, and more like punishment.

Though the pain was inhuman, when sweat dripped from his lashes, he did not so much as blink. His eyes, shadowed by candlelight, were cold and dark as a storm.

These wounds—and the agony that came with them—he would, one day, return in full.

Then, suddenly, footsteps outside the door approached once more.

Xie Zheng lifted his gaze, the violence in his eyes not yet faded, and looked toward the doorway.

Footnotes

• 1
  Madam of Complete Fortune (全福太太) — is a traditional elderly woman invited to preside over weddings in Chinese folk customs. The title literally means “woman of complete blessings” and refers to someone whose life is considered auspicious—typically widowed late, with living husband, sons, and grandchildren—all viewed as signs of good fortune. Her role is to bring blessings and recite auspicious sayings during the ceremony.